The Life I Want To Live
by Godfather Kira Doughboy
Summary: Midoriya Izuku was diagnosed with multiple mental illnesses. Now mix that in with incredibly high intellect and cunning. Along with a completely absurd goal and ideal. And a drive for making things work out just as he intended. And a tendency to quietly disappear into the shadows. And you have one very powerful and dangerous underground Hero-in-Training. (KQ Quirk!Deku)


**A/N: God when the votes for this story started, it was pretty even. Now it's ridiculously one-sided, no one really wants another villain Midori huh? Understandable I guess. There are some changes to the initial idea, some important some not. The story will be a bit different than most of you think. Judgment and Criticism are welcome. There are a lot of changes to the initial idea, but the core is still there. These are the ones that i can say without spoiling anything right now; please note that there are reasons why I made these changes.  
****\- UA is a still a high school, but the students are a bit more aged up, will be important later. I'm going to be in SHS by 2020-2021 as well ,so if I got something wrong ill fix it.  
****\- The year is set a century into the future, like far into it. This will be a bit important. But in the end just something for context  
****\- There will be fictional illnesses as well as fictional mental ones. Don't expect a century to go by in peace.  
****\- Lots of fictional events are real here. So who knows, maybe the donuting of Kakyoin is a really major plot point about how quirks. Or maybe it will be a neat little reference; the fanfic IS based on one of the most beloved serial killer in history.  
****\- A bunch of stuff will be a bit more high-tech and future-ey. This will be an important thing in the first few chapters. But will be less so in upcoming ones. But still important.  
****\- A lot of Quirks will be nerfed and buffed. One example of this is the Killer Queen quirk I plan on giving to Midoriya as well as Katsuki's explosion quirk. I won't say which gets buffed or nerfed, those would be spoilers.  
****\- No One for All.  
****\- A lot of stuff that diverges from canon at the beginning. Though it will still follow through a bit. Won't be entirely following the cannon though.**

**That's it for now. Thank you for listening and enjoy the fic (or no). Again, Critic and Judge as you plz. Just no needless hate.  
****For SFX- *SOUND EFFECTS* _*quite sound effects*  
_****For Speech-"**Speech" *Action* _"Speech in another Language/Through TV/Alternate Medium"  
_**For Thoughts**-'Thoughts' '_Attack Names' (_somethin idk)  
**For Narrator-"Narration" _'Intense Thoughts'_ (Anything with A/N: is an author's note.)  
(I'm Having a Heart Attack While im finishing this up.)**

* * *

Chapter 0: Prologue

In a forest far removed from the hustle and bustle of any city, whose whereabouts were only given to a few select and trustworthy heroes, a war has broken out; a struggle between the league of villains and the young heroes, alongside their heroic teachers. Well, it was more so a one-sided invasion, to be honest. The villains had somehow found the location of the forest summer camp, meant to be used by the great heroes of the next generation, the students of Yuei University. It was supposed to be a private area used for training any hopeful young hero, training hard so that the heroic student's quirks may keep on growing beyond their limits no matter how painful it may be, exhibiting and fulfilling their great school's motto of "GOING BEYOND PLUS ULTRA!". But now, it wasn't a summer camp, it was a damn_ battlefield. _A portion of the forest was consumed in swirling gas, a building within the forest was cut off in a ring of blue flames. And one other area was cleared of trees, having been cut down by a villain in a black straitjacket.

The league, having launched their carefully laid out plan of ambush, had caused mass panic when they went and started attacking out of nowhere, catching everyone off guard and by surprise, bamboozling all of them. A majority of the students ended up isolated into small groups or they were further secluded and were stuck on their own. Most of them had ended being either injured or unconscious halfway through the invasion the worse of they had so far gotten was a maimed student from 1-A, though they seemed to be fine. Thus the ones who could pick themselves up and fight back had been given no choice but to rely only on their own skills and wit. And if they had injured companions, then they had to simultaneously protect the ones who couldn't move or were unable to hold their ground as well as themselves. As the teachers were too preoccupied with some of the villain's hit-and-run tactics. Effectively distancing the Heroes from the students. Leaving them disorientated, confused and open, all while the villains proceed to accomplish their true goals...

But away from the, so far, one-sided war of good and evil in the forest, in a near, yet far, range. Was a cliff that held two boys in its arms. One looked to be a young child with black spiky hair, barely looking a day over five years old laying, eyes shut tight, on the ground seemingly unconscious and in a fetal position, both hands looked to be bashed and bruised. With a few tears in his eyes and some water laced on his arms, he looked to be lying in his final resting place (the boy probably was). Behind him were a few scattered pebbles, likely coming from the spider-web crack imprinted into the wall, few feet above the ground.

The other can be seen kneeling in a daze, he had a lean, toned and very muscular body, and was being hidden fairly well by his white button-up shirt, keyword being "was". The shirt now had a gaping hole in the shape of a gate. A gate previously guarding the line of sight to one of the great treasures of the world, an eight pack that has the power of being able to grate cheese. (As worded by his more than passionate, female classmates in U.A. University- "Treasure no.3 out 4") There was a bit of blood on the upper torso, only beginning to darken into the cloth.

His skin was colored a light skin tone, but was a bit more noticeably fairer and paler on his arms; being a much lighter shade. It covered from the fingertips of his hands, encompassing his arm all the way up up to the deltoid tuberosity, also known as the middle part of the humerus. Although if you look close enough, you'll notice a bit of heat air distortion appear and pass by every now and again. Moving up from his arms, the top of his head was littered with dark messy green hair containing black highlights, styled in an undercut with the hair trying their best to stay down and slick back, only to fail miserably and curl behind. Seemingly matching the hair was a pair emerald green orbs in his eyes, eyes that showed those who observed that he knew more than they thought. The very same eyes were currently distracted by the scenery up above the night sky, blankly staring at the infinite amount of bright little lights littering it. His arms drooped behind him and hanged limp, while he kneeled. An absurd amount of visible cuts and bruises littered randomly across his upper body, accompanying it was the trickling of blood coming from his mouth. The wounds were on his face, his arms and torso, a fairly sizable one could be seen in the shape of a large fist over his gut. The injuries didn't plan on disappearing anytime soon. They barely even looked to be healing, the only one being visibly indicated of recovery was the bruise over his stomach area. Having gotten them from the earlier exchange of blows. He looked like he went and challenged a professional boxer to a fistfight and gave them a titanium pair of goddamn Knuckledusters.

But in front of him was something else, something that was held out in the cliff's arms, recognizable as mere black powder piled in an odd shape. The origin of which is known only to the wounded boy. The teen, still in a daze, scrunched his face in what seemed to be mock disgust and proceeded to break out of his trance. Having been broken out of his stupor by what he deemed to be a "disgusting' thought, he stood up and started patting every single little corner of dust that he could have visibly seen on his person. Having finished, he double-checked, to see if there was still any leftover dirt, he starts patting all of the spots that he possibly missed, then does the same one more time, and he was about to check it again. Before abruptly stopping, recognition ghosting briefly over his face.

Realizing what he was spiraling into, he clicked his tongue in annoyance before forcefully moving his arms away from their current position, putting them on his sides. He frowns, before slowly looking back at the pile of black powder in front of him, the amount now lessening due to the cold evening breeze. Not wanting to register what in all things holy had just happened. He slowly lifted his head and diverted his attention back to the star-filled sky. Entrancing himself in its beauty once more. Doing his best at thinking about anything other than the... feat he just had done.

* * *

Midoriya Izuku wonders how he got to this moment. The moment, the moment in which everything would change, the moment he would learn to never tempt fate, luck or anything supernatural ever again, the moment in which everything...

went all so goddamn right for him. He never thought it would end that way but hey, he wasn't gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. After all, he had thought that everything would go the wrong way, the way that he didn't want to...

Because at this exact moment, he did not know what to do, everything was out of his control, he was not in proper control of the current situation, and his brain, his mind… It did _not_ like that one bit. It didn't like that it didn't have good, precise and proper control. It's because he didn't have good control of the situation when he was being sent halfway to the stairway of heaven (Frankly speaking, they would have probably rejected him). He was being fisted to a pulp in a one-sided beatdown, the villain wanted to trade powerful blows, the only thing Midoriya was able to offer was futile retaliation (Until he executed the feat), and that lack of control was the only possible explanation as to what had caused this, this... _this infuriating mess right in front of him._

If his brain knew one thing, it was that he needed to be in full control of _everythingyg_, every possible outcome must be known, archived and stored to either be forgotten or remembered. _Every factor_ predictable and supposedly unpredictable should be_ accounted for_. He should expect _everything_ _. Never_ should there be something that would be _out of his jurisdiction_, if there is it would not last long and once again he would _be in full, complete control_. Few are allowed to have the honor of being his _close aide _and if they did, _they earned it, they earned his TRUST_. Besides, what's the harm? if there was it would be taken care of. They're the only ones allowed to do whatever without his instruction, his word, his **guidance**…

**His AUTHORITY**

He was taught that it was wrong, constantly told by his therapist, that it was wrong, always reminded. But deep inside his mind, somewhere at the back of his head, it kept saying, that he was right no matter what they say, no…

He **KNEW** he was right, what could possibly wrong with wanting a life that could you could have control of, with nothing ever spiraling out of your control. A life in which you can walk peacefully every day without worry, knowing that nothing undesirable will ever happen because you had taken every measure to make sure of it? Living through a perfect life without any form of discomfort or disruption, and just live however you want. That was, and still is, the goal after all. To have a perfect, easy, predictable, manageable life, doing whatever the hell he wants to do to with it…

Though of course, life is never that easy, he'd be a fool to think otherwise. And he acknowledges that, the weakness and the holes in his ideal as well as the reality of it. Because if he doesn't then he won't be able to plan around it, which means he wouldn't be able to take hold of his life. And if he can't hold on to his control, then he won't be able to do what he wants... So he chose to minimize those risks, make all possible errors as minuscule and infrequent as possible. That way, should an uncontrollable circumstance ever appear in the near or far future, the chances of there being damage to his authority are kept to the smallest size possible. That is why Midoriya accepts it, but that doesn't make it anymore less irritating to admit.

And it's in that context, that proves and incites that ideal of which he loathes the most, that no matter how prepared one maybe not everything can be accorded and to plan. And that is also _why he was currently seething in displeasure and petty rage at the timing of thiS EXACT MOMENT AS IT SHOULDN'T EXIS-_

'Ah' he thought, the line of thinking knocking him out of his growing inner turmoil, one that would have turned into a giant catastrophe for him.

"It's coming back again huh."

Having now broken out of his trance he looked back at himself, assessing the damages done to him. He had previously wore a white button-up shirt followed by some slacks. He had his watch on his left wrist and had a luxury brand of shoes. But now? the shirt had a hole and was further bloodied on his torso. His shoes had there holes obliterated, as well as the ankle part. And his watch was glitching, the only thing undamaged was his slacks. Realizing the blood was still oozing from his mouth, he wiped the remains of his shirt on to it, cursing the lack of tissues and/or handkerchiefs as he does.

Shuffling through the right pouch pocket of his midnight blue slacks, the darkest possible shade, he finds a square white box out of it, its size as big as his four fingers combined. The box was made out of clear material with a white tint, it looked fragile but still oozed an aura of being unbreakable. Plat-Plastic Alloy, a synthesized metal that only their company held the formula to. It had 5 buttons in a horizontal line below a flat black screen, a metal cylinder in the top middle of the box right above the screen only being able to be seen due to the clearness of the material allowing oneself to see through it all the way to the next solid object. Seeing through the box he sees pills with a different mix of colors. He presses a button in the middle and then follows it up with another few presses. A slight whirring sound is heard before the metal cylinder protrudes out of the box spitting out two pills. One entirely light blue with, the other a darker shade with a sky blue color halving it and one fully white pill. He stares at the pills in his hand for a bit before tossing them into his mouth and bites down hard. Feeling the flavors course through his tongue, a chocolaty taste overwhelms his taste bud, only disappearing a few minutes later without notice. Humming to himself, seemingly satisfied as the medication takes over his mind almost instantaneously. Embracing that his mood has now shifted to a more positive one, he let a small smile crawl up to his face.

"*Mmm* now that's a bit better"

Looking back at the box he held in his hands, he couldn't help but remember the efforts he had to go through to convince his father to manufacture and sell them along with the choice of investiture into pharmaceuticals for his pills, but the decision ended up giving them a real good boost in profits. Both in terms of financial and personal gain, to him anyways.

He mumbled to himself. "Seriously, our company's R&D Department makes the best stuff. I should probably talk to dad about giving them a raise. The damn dispenser is amazing as is, but the chewable pills... Who thought anyone could make Paroxetine and Clomipramine taste this good, painkillers are... decent. Might want to work on that."

'Although, I thought the third batch medications were supposed to last until midnight? I'm pretty sure I only took them a few hours ago. It shouldn't have worn off yet, it's only been like what?' Trying to find out if something was wrong with him, or the product, he looked to his wrist, intending to check one of the watches he decided to bring along for fun. It was a Rolex Oyster Nebula Plat™ Model. One of the latest releases, he couldn't risk the damage on one of his much more vintage versions. He tries to read the time displayed on the holographic screen before realizing its second counter was glitching. It was still and broken. Probably happened during the smashing melee that had just taken place. Cursing his stupidity for forgetting what he had just done, he diverted his attention to his left pocket instead. Still wondering how his entire lower half, bar his sneakers, survived.

Pulling a slim phone out of his left pocket, a SxA™ SJ10+, he taps on the empty, holograph-blue screen, a bit of stinging passed by on his left fingers as he did. Looking at his phone, he aligned the three side-by-side cameras on the top of the high-tech device to his face to unlock it. A quarter of a second later, the whirring sound could be heard, lasting an absurdly short amount of time.

**_*…vrrrRR*_**

The exact millisecond the sound left, his phone buzzed to life. The opened screen greeted Midoriya with a wallpaper animation of a black spikey haired man with white lines in a loosely combed back hair wearing a light Valentino™ suit and a dark tie patterned by a column of gold skull emblems with upright, cat-like ears. He had a fairly fit and lean body. His thin, large dark irises seemingly changing light as the man in question falls in an endless loop of vibrant colors in a wormhole. Constantly shouting the same line over and over again:

"YA-YATAZO! HATSUDOU SHITAZO!"

And over the infinite loop of animation was the phone's basic home interface, which was supposed to be a clean and neat assortment of text. But that wasn't the case, as the phone shows that he was not the last one to have had opened his phone. And whoever it was that decided to change the settings had the full intention to _piss him off over the moon._

* * *

Zzz (－ω－) **10:27 PM **(－ω－) zzZ

**Aug 6 Wednesday 21XX, 29⁰C :Cloudy:**( ´ ▽ `)b

* * *

`The and kaomojis are already giving me a goddamn splitting headache, but I'll manage, hopefully, maybe whichever sadist out there had enough mercy to spare my currently shattering brain. And considering everything that had just happened, I think I deserve some well-earned breaks.' Midoriya though. Having already checked the time, having his phone already out, he decided to check for any notifications. He always preferred it when they were clear and all accounted for.

Calling out to his VI assistant, he ordered in a commanding tone at the device in his hand, a hint of fondness and caring surprisingly accompanying it.

"Senzawa, report on Phone Activities since last recorded order for a report."

Senzawa was a Virtual Intelligence Assistant that Midoriya had an extremely soft spot for, she was a top gift after all. He had relied on her for many things, from the normal mundane to the had quite the attachment to her. And a Midoriya is not one to easily attach. For if a Midoriya does, then you'll find it best not to do anything extremely stupid to those who are. In fact, if someone said that they could upgrade her into an AI, he would uncharacteristically throw all his money at them. And if it was a lie he'd throw every single explosion he can muster at them. So as the orders came out of his mouth, they were registered by the VI instantly.

So he wasn't prepared for the migraine that is the message of pure and utter terror comparable to the Great Demon Lord Philbert himself. Like a sweet, honey-laced melody pure of grammar poison.

* * *

**(**(´・ω・`)** Hewwo mastew~! Good evenying! hewe is my owo wepowt of aww youw phonye's activities since teh wast knyown wecowded wepowt wequest at 6:14 PM**

**thwee emaiw nyotifications~**

**four-hundred and twenty nyotifications~**

**sixty-nyine diffewe-))**

* * *

Blocking all further sound that he could hear, in addition to (barely) resisting the urge to just outright destroy the object in his hand. He kept staring at the screen, with all of his hope in humanity disappearing. Grieving silently at the defilement of his beloved VI. Taking all of it in-

***VRRrrr…***

Before promptly closing it. Already embracing the sweet inevitable aneurysm that was coming for him. With the blankest, most deadpan face, possibly even beating out Aizawa-sensei's record of most "Done with this shit face".

Deciding not have his recently taken medication be immediately rendered useless and ineffective, due to the migraine of having to invest energy into using his brain for _THINKING and TRANSLATING_ whatever _UNGODLY SPELL THAT WAS BROUGHT FORTH INTO THIS CURSED LAND FROM THE DEEPEST DARKEST DEPTHS OF HELL holding the destructive power equivalent to that of a thoUSAND NUCLEAR WARHEAD LOADED RODS OF ASGARD that went and came out of the GATES OF FUCKING BABYLON AT MACH FUCKIN FIF-_

"*Inhale-*, *Exhale-* that's right, calm down, that's right, just calm down, no-time-to-waste that's riiiiight noooo time to waste. Come on keep your brain intact. There's still the other villains out there, you still need to warn everyone about their targets, and you still- *Inhale-*, *Exhale-* you _still_ need to find an explanation for whatever the fuck you have done. And as well as a bunch of other _SHIT _to sort out..."

After unconsciously shifting his mood back for what seemed to be the fifth time that night. He sighs, resigning to his fate. As well as preparing himself to make whoever had the audacity to do this, have the same pain that he had just experienced. Bracing himself once more, with a trace of enmity in his voice, he promised to himself. "I swear whoever went to all the possible fucking trouble of bypassing my phone's security settings, just to change the idle display and Sen's behavioral patterns. They're going to have to be… Properly… Guided."

Having sworn his promise, he looked at the pile once more, resolute to make it the last time that he does, at his enemy's remains. Trying but failing to put the current emotion he felt into words, it kept coming to the tip of his tongue before rolling away to the abyss.

He wasn't angry, maybe just annoyed, at the mess of a pile that lay there. He felt the urge to clean it, organize it, then put in a container that he would pull out from who knows where then deposit it somewhere else that no one was able to ever find again. (His classmates would always joke about how he has a way to access a secondary dimension, and that even the most unseeable pieces of dirt and dust would be all cleaned and dusted then put in a container, like a jar, that he would pull out of his person. Presumably from said second dimension. He swears that Todoroki's conspiracy theories are going too far.)

It's too bad honestly, that this array of dusty ash would never be properly contained, properly cleaned, or even be given the proper rites. So for now, the wind will have to do its job for him. The back of his mind was telling him to clean it up instead, 'Don't take the risk' 'Only you can do it' 'You can't be sure that it will play out as you think'.

But right now? with his medication starting to kick in full gear? He didn't care about it anymore, not as much he just did at least. The breeze would do its best to fulfill that job for him.

Turning his eyes away from the sight of his quirks terrifying power, snapping his attention to what seemed to be a giant, rampaging, berserk Dark Shadow. Something must have happened to Fumikage if they made him use his quirk under current conditions. They probably thought it would be easier to capture him that way.

'Looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson in control, again.' He thought to himself. With the information that he currently has at hand, more pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Three of the five W's were now answered but the rest were missing. And now that he thought about it, it was pretty obvious that he, Fumikage and Bakugou are their targets. 'But how will they proceed with it?' he wondered, Bakugou was a pretty good fighter (although he would only ever say that under torture.) Fumikage was much more powerful when exposed to the absence of light, he would even daresay he's more powerful than him, but only at the sacrifice of restraint. And if he wanted to make sure the shadow user gets to live so Midoriya can lecture him, then he better get to Aizawa-sensei, or any other teacher, fast.

He jogged to the lying body of the five-year-old boy, gently hoisting him up with his bruised arms. It had hurt a bit, but it was nothing that a bit of adrenaline could hold off. He started briskly moving down the cliff, straddling the kid in his hold, who he had now confirmed to be unconscious, most likely from being sent flying to the wall of rocks earlier. Halfway down, he felt the boy shiver in cold, a quick check of his pulse revealed that he was starting to have palpitations and that he was fairly dehydrated.

'I'll need to get him some medical attention, some of the pawns as well as my retainers know basic first-aid so I'll leave it to them if I find them on the way, if not then I'll just drop him off the camp. Though of course, I'll have to prioritize myself, I'll need to be back in action as soon as possible. After all, what's an army without its Field Marshall?' Finally reaching the bottom of the cliff, he picked up the pace. Momentarily forgetting and leaving the transpired event to focus on planning for the present issues at hand, plans upon plans and backups now stacking on his head. Leaving the proof and details of the action behind, leaving it to become nothing but a memory of a memory. A memory that will last a tad bit more than he wanted it to.

Because no matter how you see It, it was, as would be described and worded by his teachers (if seen), a careless, non-heroic act that could have led to his expulsion from UA no matter the excuse. Sure he may have wanted to be a UNDERGROUND hero, but even his reasoning to be one was, just like what was said earlier, Non-heroic.

And whether you're a civilian or hero, underground or not, or even a villain. Killing is wrong no matter how you look at it. No matter how vile or evil they may be, or how much they deserve the Grim Reaper's visit. It can destroy a hero's career before it even starts. As only those of competence are allowed to make such a heavy decision. And from what he'd seen so far, he cannot fully say that he was competent, the scattered ashes being proof of it. What makes it even more troublesome is that could cause compromise to almost everything that he had planned for his **_"Paradise"_**_._ He wasn't gonna let an "oversight" derive him from what he wants.

'Looks like I might have to adjust a few long-term plans... But I must make sure it's nothing that I won't be able to handle. I can't let people know what I did. Nothing must be out of my jurisdiction, for everything that may be possible to control... Must be controlled'

With calculations, adjustments and processed information flying, faster than a jet, around his head. He had, just as fast, mapped out all the possible outcomes that he must prepare, face or if necessary eliminate. He needed to take back his control, and the first step is to know the pieces on the board you're going to be playing in.

He needed a plan, a plan for the three primary objectives that he needs to accomplish, one that can do everything with the best desirable outcome. He must stop the villains and end up in a position in which the account is leveraged heavily to them being the winner, without injuries or death (Not including _that _one). He must be able to hide the death and disappearance of the villain he had encountered from both sides alike. And three, look as cool and bad-ass to increase reputation among peers and earn respect from the staff and heroes alike then be feared by the villains, In that order preferably.

'Three objectives, the goal is to secure all in one plan. With the lowest risk, lowest amount of unmanageable factors, and highest reward.-"

And with a few more bits clicking in his head,

The board has been opened, the pieces have been chosen, and the players are designated.

'Come on now everyone.'

With everything now laid out before his mind, he picked up the pace. He started slightly sprinting, letting his mental game board set itself onto the mental table, forming into the memorized shape of the forest camp. Littering it were game pieces of different types, from risk, shogi and all the way to chess with a few unorthodox mixed in. With everything in his head in place, he let out a dark chuckle, signaling...

'Let's play..."

He had been played by fate. But now... It was his turn.

"_For the game is set!_"

* * *

**A/N: Yeah that's all for now. BTW the first half is gonna be all about how he gets to the point. As well as some context. The main influences for this Midoriya is Hisoka, Yoshi Kira, and Griffith. Try and guess how they influence him. And also yes he does have a mental illness(es). And I highly advise you to try and remember that there are fictional ones as well. That's all for now. Peace  
Also, i would like to thank a lot of people for reviewing the first few drafts of this story, as well as putting up with my indecision. So thank you:  
From FFN  
-KenLot**  
**-Alphasix321**  
**-Ash Sayin**  
**-Zon Zus**  
**-Sonnie Celena  
From AO3  
-Derpboom  
From Discord  
-Dumbassricecake  
-AGoldenTKOC  
(Edit 3/19/2020: Thank you to Golden Gaytime and DatHoneyBee from discord for editing this whole thing. Thank you)**

**thank for putting up with me, and see you all nxt time. Pls review and critique, they fill with me with motivation.**


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